


Who Was Once Death

by EllowynTheNotKing



Category: Original Work
Genre: Apocalypse, Death, Death's POV, Gen, Life after apocalypse, Other, Zombies, life - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 21:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17947118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllowynTheNotKing/pseuds/EllowynTheNotKing
Summary: When Death's existence is linked to the overall survival of humanity, what is a semi-immortal being to do?





	Who Was Once Death

For so long I was feared. When humans drew my visage it was as the worst of monsters. When they prayed it was that I would stay far from them. For a long time, I held this role. It was mine and no other could hold it as I did. 

Then came the great days of reaping. Never before had I taken so many in such a short amount of time. In the beginning, I thought it would not last, I thought it was a war like so many others. Only, one that was so much worse than most. 

With all the time I spent among the living -though not truly among them, never truly- I learned of the terrible monsters, the beings that arose from the people I reaped. They rose and hunted the living. 

At first, I cared not. What happened to the humans was only my business when it was time for them to be reaped. But after the dramatic number drop, they continued needing to be reaped at a faster speed than they could reproduce.

This, this was a problem. This, unfortunately, was  _ my _ problem. 

Instead of staying outside and watching for when I was needed, I stepped in when I was  _ needed _ . 

I watched the humans. I saw when they were too close, and I let some fall, but others I held up.  Some I left for reaping, but some I saved. Some had to be taken, but others could be given a second wind. 

I saved them, the runners. But they were always alone. There wasn’t any good in saving them if they never came together to repopulate. 

I turned to the small groups next. The ones in pairs, triads, quartets. I nudged their wild shots true. When one tripped, it was into a berry patch. When I could I tried to lead them in the right direction, but they rarely listened if they heard me. I tried to warn them away from more dangerous places, but unlike the lone runners, they didn’t head my warnings as often. Bolstered by their numbers, slight as they are, they went towards danger and paid for it quite often.

After them, I tried the larger groups. The ones of five or more. The ones who tried to stay in one place. They weren't always safe, but I found that sometimes I could warn them of coming danger if I myself had enough warning. Sometimes they heard me and took proper precautions. But all too often they didn’t, sometimes they heard my warning and ran towards the danger. 

It took so long, but I learned that I could help them best when I simply acted for them. Sometimes I would try to give them instruction, but only if I knew there was no way for them to misinterpret what I told them. They still managed to mess up at times, but I tried. 

The larger groups were the ones who first really noticed me. They saw my efforts, they saw their people come home and some of them heard my warnings. 

Now they saw my efforts. Now they saw the steadied shots. The hardier plants, that fruited and flowered twice in a year. The fumbling monsters that  _ only just _ didn’t catch them. 

I did my best to subtly, and then less than subtly protect them. They saw, and they thanked me. For the first time in, well, ever, humans were thankful for my existence. 

I kept it up, and after a while, my efforts were rewarded. They started trying to have children around. They started to become hopeful again. 

It wasn’t until a mother required reaping that I heard the new name that humans had given me. I reaped a woman who called me Life, and she thanked me for giving her the time I had. She called me Life and thanked me for giving her child a future when I didn’t reap him too. 

She thanked me for the time I had given her. I have been thanked before. But never for giving time, only for taking the pain. 

She called me Life and thanked me. After her, so many others did too. Those that could hear me would thank me when I helped them. Those that couldn’t, left me offerings for keeping them safe. They thanked me and gave me gifts. That was something that had never happened before. 

Being Life was not a role I thought I’d ever take on, but it is a pleasant role. 

No longer am I feared, I am loved for the peace that I have given. 

I am loved.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Death is pleasantly confused.   
> Always looking for prompts, horror prompts will likely be answered sooner.   
> If you can think of any tags that fit this story please comment/message me.


End file.
